Chapter 13

Back in the highly surveillanced medical bay, four of Titans stood around the resting form of their mask less nemesis while their sorceress, Raven, hovered her fingers over the old man's temples; her plan was to enter Slade's mind.

In the back of her own mind, Fear was spinning anxiously, wondering why the hell Beast Boy wasn't here with them as well.

"You okay, Raven?" Robin had to ask, noticing her struggle yet unintentionally breaking her concentration.

When she scowled at the leader, that was his queue to suck in his lips.

Nonetheless, I didn't take long for her to get back into the flow.

She waved her hands and began her mantra.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos."Vague images started swirling in her head, its motion leading her deep down into its darkest pit.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos."

Raven could then hear voices, ones that couldn't belong to the memories of this madman... could it?

These sounded like the voices of a caring mother, a wife... and an innocent child.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos."

Finally, darkness caved in, and Slade's skeletons were soon to be revealed.

(SCENE BREAK)

Her first memory breach brought her back into the ruined household of the Logans - - she was back in Garfield's old home... but why?

Looking down as the wood-tiled floor with a lone eye, she realized that she was in fact Slade upon seeing his elongated shadow stretching from his cladding footsteps in the corridor.

What was he of all people doing in here?

When Slade entered Garfield's room, stepping over his strewn belongings, he idled in front of his bed for what seemed like a whole minute until he sat down on the edge and rested his masked face in his hands.

Raven could pick up vibes of confusion, reluctance, and despair - - what could a man like Slade despair over?

It wasn't until she watched his plated arm reach for Garfield's family photo that she got her first clue.

As she and Slade gazed into this broken frame of the boy and his parents, a tsunami of sadness compelled the two.

Why would he be sad over this family, unless...?

In the frame's reflection, she could see his other hand lift towards the chin of his mask, as if to remove it, only to recoil.

He stood back up again and placed the picture back where he found it before leaving.

A jolting realization nearly shocked Raven out of Slade's head - - he was here long before the incident.

The reason she knew this was because she and Beast Boy, along with his books, had taken that same picture back to their tower as well.

(SCENE BREAK)

Beast Boy was on his way to accompanying his friends when his animal instincts sensed something off about their tower... something they'd missed.

As much as he wanted to be with the others, Raven especially, his gut told him that he should investigate this instead.

(SCENE BREAK)

This second memory, Raven pieced together, took place farther back in the past as she found the criminal mastermind dragging his feet through the murky rivers of a forest.

It was late in the night, and she could feel all the bruises and cuts on his body weighing him down - - these were clearly the injuries he had received from their final battle against Trigon.

Here we was now, deprived his strength and will to fight any longer.

Eventually surrendering, Slade allowed his aching muscles to relent, and he fell to the ground, his armor imprinted against the cold dirt.

"What's the point, anyway?" He murmured.

Just before he let his last eye droop shut, a light in the distance shimmer through his eyelashes before he passed out, expecting death's grace to carry him down.

(SCENE BREAK)

What neither Slade nor Raven expected was for him to wake up inside the warmth of a cabin.

By some miracle... he was spared.Grunting, the man made no immediate attempt to get up, but he did run a hand up his torso to find bandages and stitches all over.When he reached his face, his eye popped when his fingers touched his bare face.Sitting up, he backed against the headboard just as the door swung open - - all his equipment had been stripped fromfrom him, thus, he had nothing to defend himself with.

"Glad to see that you're up, finally."

It was a young woman, modest as she appeared unassuming.

Caught of guard at first, having expected someone or something more imposing, the wounded man nonetheless remained cautious as she approached him with a tray of food.

"I found you in that armor, all battered up." She explained while placing the tray next to his bed. "Whoever you fought, you must have bitten off far more than you could chew."

From the cool tone in this woman's voice, she didn't seem quite afraid of him, but just curious.

"If you had any common sense, woman, you should have left me there."

The woman only smirked, unfazed one bit by his response.

"Maybe, but something told me I should do something."

"Why?" Slade narrowed his eye. "Do I look like a wounded bird to you? Speaking of which, what was a young woman like you doing out in the forest all alone in the first place?"

"I like sightseeing."

"How marvellous." He retorted. "Did you wait all night long for someone like me to drop by so you can be my Florence Nightingale?"

The woman sighed as she sat down on a stool that happened to idle by.

"Your profession doesn't make you very fond of people, does it?" Now she was smiling.

"Now what would make you say that?"

"I don't know a whole lot about what goes on between heroes and villains, but you certainly don't look like the former."

"If you knew I that to begin with, then why did you bring me into your house?" He wasn't trying to be sarcastic anymore; he was genuinely curious now. "For all I know, I could kill you in your sleep."

"If you could kill me, I'm sure you could do it right now with your bare hands." Slade raised an eyebrow. "You could get up right now, maybe snap my neck, and limp away with all your things that I've placed in that wardrobe over there."

The woman pointed over her shoulder to the wardrobe right in the corner of the room.

"You still didn't answer my question."

"Right. I have no agenda, Slade, but I do believe in kindness towards your neighbours."

Slade nearly jumped off the mattress when this woman mentioned his name, but he kept his composure.

With this, the woman got up to leave, but not without one last statement.

"Whatever you've done, you may have just been given another chance to make things right."

Slade scoffed as he folded his arms. "You're more naive than a certain alien princess I know."

"Whatever you say."

Slade had to know one more thing before the woman could disappear behind the door.

"Since you got my name, what's yours, if you don't mind?"

She turned back to him, thought for a moment, and answered.

"Dawson, and I suggest you eat if you think I haven't poisoned your food."

And like that, she was gone.

Slade didn't know what to think of her, but right now, he needed to satisfy his undeniable hunger, so he decided to accept her hospitality until further notice.

(SCENE BREAK)

"So... what comes next for the legendary criminal mastermind?" Dawson asked, sitting cross-legged at the end of her dining table as she watched her unusual guest set his armor back on.

Slade paused for a second. "Quite a question, isn't it?"

Truly it waswas. Was was he to do now?

"I might just give myself a year to lay low." He shrugged. "Perhaps then, I'll regain enough stimulus to send a robot after some of my friends in the city just for fun."

"And then?"

Slade fell silent once more.

"Still figuring that part out, I'm guessing?"

A week had passed since he was brought into the hospitality of this woman, hidden from the world in her admittedly nice home - - he was starting to find her quite amusing... but why?

Stalling some more, he looked across the living room to a gallery of frames, one of which lured his great interest.

In this one frame that he strode over to, hanging amidst its smaller neighbours, was an old grainy photo of a pack of soldiers - - in the middle of the front row stood a little girl.

"Is this you?" Slade inquired.

Dawson got up from her chair to stand at his side.

She nodded, and then pointed to the soldier who was holding her. "And this is my father."

"Was he a soldier?"

She shook. "Just a mercenary hired to do wetwork." Her eyes glazed slightly, enough for Slade to notice. "I was his apprentice."

Way to bring up more hellish memories, woman.

"We did whatever we could to survive, made plenty of enemies along the way... we had no home."

"I'm guessing this didn't end too brightly."

"He wanted to break free countless times, but deep down, he couldn't be anything else."

Slade couldn't help but bow his head slightly. "I suppose you can't change who you are."

Just as this Dawson woman nodded silently, Slade left her side and proceeded towards the front door.

"I'd say don't be a stranger, but I suppose you aren't cut out for that." She stated.

In a strange turn, Slade returned her an elusive smile before he donned his signature mask once more.

He exited the doorframe, the same criminal he was before, but now contaminated with uncharted thoughts.

"You were quite a spectacle, Dawson."

With one last shared glance, he closed her door and was gone from this woman's life... for the time being.

Raven, having spectated this whole bizarre scene as nothing more than a ghost, was plunged out of the house.

As she warped through yet another void, her own mind got infested with infinite questions.

She knew somehow that this strange unassuming woman might have had something to do with Slade's motivation.

The only way she was going to solve this was to descend further into this rabbit hole.

Whatever she was going to find... she knew in her gut was going to turn out quite ugly.

But first, there was going to be this climb towards the light.

(TO BE CONTINUED)

Author's Note: Better late than never! Life was very hectic for me, but I wanted to gift you all with a New Year's gift with a new chapter. I hope you all liked this chapter. More of Slade's past will be explored, but for now, I want to keep you all guessing. Hopefully, I can get the next chapter done sooner, but I make no promises. Feel free to leave a comment.